


(When You're) Dreaming

by sharedwithyou



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Angstangstangst, F/M, Implied Violence, Loki really needs a hug, Lovelies All Need Hugs, Reader-Insert, Very Mild Triggers, possible triggers, still angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 20:39:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5389475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharedwithyou/pseuds/sharedwithyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Related to (though not exactly prequel/sequel) Are You Happy Now</p><p>Possible Mild Triggers</p><p>still inspired by the same song</p><p> </p><p>It was in those moments that you reached your hand out to trace the curve of his temple. To stroke the smooth lines where the wrinkles of age and hurt had lessened for the night.</p><p>And you’d remember the warmth and the rush of when he first pressed his mouth against yours, and the coursing inside your veins when he pulled you into his solid and muscled form. </p><p>Until you turned away and let your head drop onto the pillow beneath, and pulled the call of night against you uselessly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(When You're) Dreaming

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to read Are You Happy Now before or after this~ though I feel the writing progression works better with this read second  
> but chronologically might be fun as well
> 
> both fics have  
> WARNING: possible mild triggers:  
> mostly pychologial/implied violence
> 
> Both are inspired by the song John Wayne Gacy Jr. by Sufjan Stevens and the song ONLY. if you want to know the story behind that song read at your own risk (i personally chose not to)
> 
> There's not much else to say that wasn't already said in the intro to Are You Happy Now (so you might want to read that first)
> 
> hope you guys enjoy it lovelies!  
> give me some love if you do <3

Sometimes his eyes are furrowed, his lips thin and set, like he’s in the middle of an argument.

Or his skin is pale and cold, like he’s in the middle of nothingness.

But you like it best when the sleep takes him by surprise into a peaceful place, where his mouth is soft, like they could even smile, with the light dusting from his lashes like little rays of sun, or tears. Either would be fine.

It was in those moments that you reached your hand out to trace the curve of his temple. To stroke the smooth lines where the wrinkles of age and hurt had lessened for the night.

But you were afraid you’d wake him up, so you withdrew it, sometimes without letting your fingers linger against his hair; without your touch.

 

Times like these, you felt less like a creep, like an obsessed vampire with the saliva dripping from its fangs, waiting for a moment of privacy, even if it couldn’t be shared consciously with him.

Searching for the sweetest, most tempting, carnivorous bite into his vulnerable jugular, to drain him dry.

 

Or perhaps pressing the swiftness of your palm against the bottom half of his face, watching his lashes flutter open like a Sleeping Beauty, woken with a twisted kiss.

And for once his eyes would hold surprise instead of condescending omniscience, fear instead of pure and altogether never-ending fury.

Like he was drowning through irony in this expanse of free, surface-level air.

 

Instead, you’d bite your bottom lip, partly awakened, partly abashed, lowering your eyes for a second as if he’d start and catch you staring.

And you’d remember the warmth and the rush of when he first pressed his mouth against yours, and the coursing inside your veins when he pulled you into his solid and muscled form.

 

Until you turned away and let your head drop onto the pillow beneath, and pulled the call of night against you uselessly.

And if you felt yourself wandering, you’d remember the shapely bump of your wrist-bone slightly askew, reminding you that your hand had once been broken.

And that would keep you sane, or at least controlled within yourself, until the curse of insomnia was broken by a (sadly) dreamless sleep.

 

Should you be woken by a sound in the night, like the murmur of your name, or the shout of dismay, you’d sit up, staring ahead, until he said he needed you, or fell back asleep.

And if you couldn’t return to slumber, you’d watch his profile for a moment more, before you got up, put on a dressing robe, and went to read in the moonlight.

 

Once or twice (or four exact times) he had found you there, in the garden by the birch, scrawling a guess of a portrait and unaware of his presence.

You had grabbed his hand roughly when he put it on your shoulder, startled by his sudden company; more so by his touch.

And he’d held on, spinning you around slowly, to lead you back to bed.

You’d look into the orbs they called eyes, cloudy with dream but clear with intent, and feel yourself drawing towards him.

Then you’d see the mark your brush had made on his sleeve when you had snatched it in surprise, and reach for the scroll you had drawn on to rip a piece off and blot the ink away.

It was in this motion that you’d lose the moment that you lost yourself, and shake your head firmly.

The last time, he had shrugged your attempt to clean his arm away, tilting his chin once more to the door.

But as you considered one extra time, he turned back to get out of the cold, and you remembered again, why you’d stayed.

 

In the morning it was just another day, with another task and another face, still governed by the last, concrete dream he’d managed to hold on.

But it wasn’t one that brought the look, the almost-smile and almost-kindness.

The almost-happiness.

 

And you wondered if some dreams were meant to be just that, dreams, to give us hope for the heavens, to reach for the stars once more.

Or maybe that some things were just too good to be true.

That’s why they came in the darkness, where the glare of reality could not chase them away until morning dawned.

At least maybe that’s the way it worked for everyone else.

 

Because when sleep stayed away, the night became your day, where dreams that hadn’t been taken yet could finally be realized.

And should your hand wander again, or even your mouth, you’d have the choice.

 

Let your teeth against his exposed neck, to end the eternal fight between him and you.

Hold your hand to trap the air, letting the cold emptiness of his soul fade into nothingness.

 

In the end it was the peace that kept you, inches away from his comely face, hovering over the promise of goodness that he’d once given you.

At least for now, that’s how you felt.

 

At least for now, that’s what keeps you safe.

When you’re dreaming.

**Author's Note:**

> BOOM. 
> 
> that was my soul.
> 
> leave me some love below if you liked!
> 
> random ramblings:  
> toxic love at it's best!! (or it's worse)
> 
> yes that Edward reference was for laughs (since i need a bit of humor in all my fics) though i do not know anything other than the fact that he glitters and apparently watches Bella when she sleeps
> 
> yes lovely is quite special here; has she been driven crazy or was she always like this (and that's how she puts up/is drawn to/draws loki in)
> 
> ambiguity is my friend here.
> 
> insomnia is a common theme in my fics; probably because i have had it for years. luckily that's where a lot of my good work comes from, instead of whatever lovely is planning here ;)
> 
> poll 1: which do you think lovely will choose: 1, 2 or three?
> 
> (if you don't know what i mean go back and read the beginning and end again; there are three situations =) )
> 
> there is so much twistedness in this fic i don't think i can began to cover it all with my random ramblings
> 
> "and the coursing inside your veins when he pulled you into his solid and muscled form." the bare idea behind this was loki pulling you into his arms but his body is hard and obviously not soft/huggy/plushie. ideally the line would have read "pulled you against his hardness" but as much as i love ambiguity and double entendre's that one was just too much.  
> if this fic made you sad that last line will probably make you feel slightly better.
> 
> quick poll 2: which image stood out to you the most?
> 
> for me it was you leaning over and pressing your hand against his mouth in one swift motion as his eyes open and he can't breathe... dark but that's what stood out to me most  
> another one is when you grab his hand that's on his shoulder, and for a second it's just his touch and everything's okay; and then you see his sleeve stained with black ink and you remember again
> 
> quick poll 3: how did you break your wrist?
> 
> for example; did loki break it to punish you? did he push you and by accident you fell onto it? did you punch the wall so hard you broke it?
> 
> this fic isn't exactly a prequel or sequel to my last one; more of another window to their relationship
> 
> "At least for now, that’s what keeps you safe.
> 
> When you’re dreaming." whether this is keeping you sane from the abuse, or keeping you and loki together, or this is from you to loki, is up to interpretation.
> 
> (i meant it mostly by the third)
> 
> that's why lovely tries her hardest to sleep (though it's fruitless against insomnia by definition) because night is when she has her total freedom and total isolation, and that might not be the best thing
> 
> but in the end, if you can't sleep for too long, you go outside to read (or draw). 
> 
> and another night passes without incident.
> 
> that's all this time lovelies!! leave me a comment please!
> 
> XOXO Bucky the Mindfucker (because even if there's no actual surprise/twist in this fic, it's kind of the definition of fucking with a mind)


End file.
